


who's counting? (1, 2, 3)

by parkadescandal



Series: 20kAu [3]
Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: 20kAu, Alternate POV, Chapter 2:, Dialogue-Only, M/M, Smut, TSCU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21555820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkadescandal/pseuds/parkadescandal
Summary: Oh, Riku... we're really in it now.One-shots taking place during20k."Benefits" is a strong word.
Relationships: Riku/Sora (Kingdom Hearts)
Series: 20kAu [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1223426
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	1. you did a number on me...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Switched POV of That One Scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the switcheroo point of view no one asked for. someone please get this boy some help he is not well.

He’s gotta know. He has to show him, finally—

Granted, it never should have happened in the first place. He’s paid a price in the quiet agony he feels whenever they touch, but still gambles every time that it’s worth it just to be close to him. Doesn’t matter how. Even though before he knew it, the agony spread out to every other kind of contact—even the most simple things, the ones they’d shared all their lives, were written over with it. He couldn’t remember a time when anything went uncolored with subtext. Every gentle pat and reassurance was tainted now. Every single brush of arms bruised.

He has to know by now. Sora must have figured it out. 

Riku is distressed with how obvious it must be now. It has to be _pathetically clear_ that Riku is ready to fall apart with it at any given moment, collapse around it like some of the enemies they’d encountered on their travels had after just a deft one-two to the body with a keyblade. All that’d be left of him would be pieces on the ground; nothing as sharp as words. 

Riku paces. He acknowledges that he remains keyed up with adrenaline, self-conscious about the way everything had panned out before Vanitas, insufferable as ever, arrived to change the tide. Riku’s hand was forced. But maybe it’s better this way, he thinks, maybe this frenzy will force his hand again. Maybe there was hope after all. Maybe it was all sketched out in loaded looks at one another across the field, in licked lips at opportune moments. Maybe it was there all along in the nightly dance they did, the dogged pursuit that took place right here in this room. Maybe it was possible that Sora felt the same way, evidence there in lingering glances and starry eyes. The way the brightest words would tumble out him in the firecracker light of validation. 

Besides, he has to know by now.

And if Sora did, and still carried out this torture without any regard for him, without reciprocating… then it didn’t bear thinking about. 

Every ounce of it a shock to the system, and he has to show—

But if he really were in love with him, in the way Riku didn’t acknowledge as possibility outside of his dreams... if he knew (because it was _obvious_ ) about the way Riku felt, then why were they still at this impasse? 

Not that it mattered. Riku has already pushed the envelope on the lengths he’ll go for him, and the results were far from comfortable. He’d kill and die, in fact _has_ , and he’d do it again, and again, in this worldline, in all of them. It didn’t matter. The lengths he’d go… he has to know. And if he doesn’t, then he’ll tell—

The door to their shared room finally creaks open by cautious degrees, but it’s not fast enough: Riku has found his resolve. He is going to show him. 

_Is this what you wanted?_ he thinks, grabbing Sora by the wrist to pull him inside. _Is this what you needed?_ he thinks, pushing him up against the door, surrounded by the resulting electricity. _I have it all_ , he thinks, feeling his approval in the way he breathes into his mouth. He’ll drink from it as deeply as he can, thinking, _I’ll be it all, I’ll be it all, I’ll be it all._

He _has_ to know. 

_Mine_ , he thinks, immediately guilty: that’s not quite it, is it? He’s presented Sora with his heart on a platter and signed a contract of willful servitude—it’s entirely the opposite. But with his lip in his mouth and his thighs in his hands, he’ll claim ownership, for just a moment. 

_I’ve always wanted you_ , he says by mouthing sloppily at his neck. _More than you’d know_. 

He picks him up with ease and deposits him there on the bed. He looks down to find an expression he knows by heart, that selfsame lust reflected back at him. For a moment, Riku can take as well as he gives. 

“Can I—” he manages, knowing he rasps on every word, breath catching. Riku reveals too much of himself with that alone, but he gets his agreement from it, Sora nodding vigorously, and the moment is Riku’s for the taking. 

It’s not just anyone. And surely he knows. 

When he kneels it’s a little bit like worship. He’s pulled from the thought by the sound of Sora’s voice, crackling where it’s still raw. Throat hoarse from screaming and tight from the grip of the thing that almost took him from Riku. It would have been too late. The end and they’d never… He’ll show—

Sora’s yell is choked out, and Riku remembers the terror in it from before. He wants to overwrite it. To create a different association. He’ll claim the pain for his own, take it over, reinforce himself over each wound with the press of his lips serving as a butterfly bandage to the psyche. 

Long ago Sora had told him of the burden he bore— _their hurting will be ended_ , he said with an absent stare. He was still saddled with a responsibility long since completed. _It will be mended when you return to—_

Never again. Riku intends to be there for the rest of it, to dismantle the structures of the pain Sora took on build anew over every tangible inch. 

He thinks on how wrong he’d had it for a moment, dizzy with affection. _I belong to him_ , he knows, the sound of Sora’s shout tapering off in his ears, echoing Riku’s own pleasure. Riku rolls into the pain where Sora grasps at him desperately and meets him where it is, thrusting deeper at every touch so he can screw away every fear that had washed over the both of them that day. 

They meet eyes for a moment, and it’s more than he could have expected. More than he even knew he wanted. 

If he hasn’t seen it yet, he’ll show him whatever way he can. He has to know that Riku would lay down everything he has for him, and if he doesn’t, he’ll tell him. Maybe, for his troubles, Sora will adore him right back, but that’s another thing Riku isn’t sure matters in the long run. His position won’t ever change. 

Riku will hold him through this crisis and the next and it won’t cost Sora a thing. He’ll take what he gets, and right now it’s the measured sound of his moans. When Riku reaches his climax in turn still the only thing he can think to do is hold him. He’s forever indebted to him, so he’ll gladly spend the rest of his life chasing away his demons in return for the light he gives him. The depth of his love would have him do nothing less. 

He shouldn’t need to tell him for him to know. He’s already shown what he’ll give in return for the love he’s received. But he will. He’ll say it in so many words. 

He’ll show him now, through his touch, and through a kiss, and another—Sora doesn’t seem to have any problem understanding the message. 

“I can’t let anything happen to you,” Riku hears himself say at one point, plain as daybreak. He still searches him with his hands to seek out and fix whatever’s harmed him. 

It’s selfish, because along with the pain he wants to take in as much of _him_ as possible. 

“You can’t leave me. You’re not allowed.” 

He may just be starting to believe it when Sora says he knows it. 

Riku chooses to believe that he hears his vow for what it is: _I’ll never leave you_. 

That’s the most important part. But the secondary thing is what he mouths into his collarbone, as close as he’s ever come to saying it out loud. _I love you so much,_ he says. _I love you so much, I love you, I love you—_

Right now it’s all he can do; Sora is long since asleep. But he’ll still think it, the little mantra he’s caught in on repeat: _so much, I love you so much I love you so_ —

In the morning, Riku will tell him. He’ll say it out loud. There will be nothing left to imply. They will wake up and get to laugh about the whole thing, lucky they can share it while still pressed together, and Riku will allow himself the privilege of staying right there with him instead of dragging himself back to spend the night alone. He’ll allow himself the mending of his own heart. Sora has to know, but he definitely _will_. Riku will finally say in the waking hours what he’d concealed for so long. 

It almost feels foolish to have waited. Knowing that the burden of love was his regardless, he had always known that keeping it close was the best way to control it. But _this_ is as close to what lovers do as anything. He’ll never be one hundred percent certain without hearing the words for himself, but in this moment he thinks he can survive either outcome. Watching the easy rise and fall of Sora’s chest, Riku dares to think that he’s owed this moment. Maybe it will be his to claim forever. Riku tries to snatch the fluttering wings of hope down from where they hover, but he realizes he’s allowed too many to fly away. He knows he’s lost objective truth, set more of them free with every long pull of a kiss he deludes himself into thinking was real. But as much as he regrets not checking these hopes where they emerge, he still thinks sleepily that each kiss wasn’t so much a means to an end anymore as it was the end in and of itself. 

He’s not often privy to his own expression, but he thinks that he sees the yearning he only allows himself to show while he watches on in the dead of night. He thinks that maybe he saw that same one reflected back at him. He hopes that the way Sora leaned into his caress with hooded eyes shows the same bare lovesickness Riku knows he shows every weak moment. Out of context, it only spells out a love story. Maybe he could take each kiss at face value. Maybe now a kiss finally meant the same thing as it did in all of his guilty fever dreams. 

He’ll allow himself to pretend. 

Sora sleeps curled beside him, vulnerable and without a care. He’s already safe. Riku knows he’s capable of terrible things for want of keeping it that way. 

Instead, he settles into his place beside him, the place he’ll always be, and presses a lingering kiss to his shoulder. Riku will always show him. He feels Sora stir minutely as he reaches to connect their hands, and drifts off while shifting around Sora to make sure he can still feel him close. He’s always shown. He’s all but told. 

But in the morning, he’ll know. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and then he DIDN'T.


	2. ...but honestly, baby, who's counting?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Engaging in a dialogue... among other things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the original point of writing sequels was to leave less to the imagination. this is an exercise in the exact opposite, but there should be plenty implied.
> 
> note 'chose not to use archive warnings.' chap 2 includes allusions to s&m adjacent sex acts. please steer clear if you're uncomfortable with any ambiguity when it comes to staying Safe, Sane, and Consensual.

“Okay. You know I can’t see. Go slow.” 

“ _For once_.” 

“Ugh. ...How did you pull this off for so long? I’ll never know.” 

“Good thing I already took care of it.” 

“Fine, just hurry up and— _hup_.” 

“You were saying?” 

“I was _saying_ stop talking and _oh gee_ — Yeah. That’s it. No, no. There. There, there, there, yup, that’s the one…” 

“ _Mmph-hmm._ ” 

“Okay. Okay. Okay, okay, okay, no, wait. Stop.” 

“ _Mmp?_ ” 

“Now, yes, please, _ah—_ ”

“Okay. Stopped.” 

“Good boy.” 

“ _Hh—_ ”

“That was weird. I’m sorry. It was weird.” 

“No kidding.” 

“Oh, ooh. No, nope. Doesn’t feel like you thought it was weird.” 

“It was a little weird.” 

“It was just weird _enough_. Listen. Let me try something.” 

“Fine.” 

“Can you trust me?” 

“What kind of question is th… _ah!”_

“Oh, I… I didn’t mean to hit _that_ hard. I hope that eye doesn’t bruise.”

“…It’s fine.” 

“Are you sure? I promise I really didn’t _—_ Oh. Yeah, you’re really… sure, aren’t you.” 

“Okay, then, maybe not _—_ ”

“Oh man, it’s _really_ fine.” 

“Okay, wait, are you _—_ ”

“Shh. Yes, just let me… Yes. Thank you. Yes. Hold me up.” 

“Are _—_ ”

“I know you can carry me.” 

“That’s beside the— _oh okay fine_.” 

“Better than fine, I hope.” 

“ _Nn_.”

“Okay. ’s okay, ’s okay—”

“ _Uh huh_.” 

“Ah—this. Yeah, this.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Here. Yes, here, there you go.” 

“Are…” 

“ _Oh_.” 

“Mm.” 

“ _Urk—_ please. Ha… harder—”

“H— _no!_ ” 

“Ah— _ow_! Hey! What _gives._ ” 

“I can’t _—”_

“Can’t _what_?” 

“I didn’t want to _hurt you_.” 

“Well, it’s too late now, isn’t it. Unless you had some other reason for _dropping me on the floor._ ” 

“You know what I meant.” 

“I _asked_ you to.” 

“You _put_ my _hand_ around your neck, that’s _not_ the same thing.” 

“We live and we learn, I guess. Help me up. It’s the least you can do.” 

“Listen, this is _not_ my fault.”

“I didn’t say it was your—never mind. Forget about it.” 

“Already did.” 

“Oh. Okay. 

“Fine. Are you… okay. That’s… that’s fine.” 

“Thought you said ‘ _forget about it._ ’ I can do that from here.”

“I did. I… fine. 

“…Hey.” 

“Mm.” 

“You okay?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

“I can’t even see right now and I can already tell I’m looking at a liar.” 

“… _Just remem—_ ” 

“Speak up, pal.” 

“I’m just saying, it… reminded me.” 

“Of what?” 

“I’ve tried to _kill you_ before.” 

“You might succeed today if you don’t pull it together.” 

“I don’t think you’re understanding me. Do I have to repeat myself? _I tried to kill y—”_

“Yeah, but. Um.” 

“Wh-“ 

“I… kind of liked it.” 

“ _Wh—”_

“I mean, that’s probably not the best way to describe it but I thought maybe it was worth exploring.” 

“I don’t _—”_

“I mean it was really confusing at first but I never stopped thinking about it?” 

“You _—”_

“…Are you okay?” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You can’t be serious.” 

“I’m _really_ serious. I wish I wasn’t. Do you know how awkward it is to sit in a cramped Gummi bunk and get _the talk_ from _—”_

“Stop. Stop, I don’t wanna hear it.” 

“I’m just saying... I wouldn’t mind. ...At all.” 

“You’re really pushing your luck right now.” 

“You’re making it a big deal, it’s not like you actually _would._ I trust you and I want to _—”_

“You’re insane. Absolutely not. Full stop. Don’t ask me to do that again.” 

“Okay. Well, maybe _—”_

“I’m not coming back over there.” 

“Not even _—”_

“No, I’m done. There’s no way I’m coming back from that anytime soon.” 

“But not… _never_ , right?

“…Right?” 

“No. Not never.” 

“…Wait. Did you say ‘ _not ever_ ’ or— _—”_

“Listen, can we just let it go?” 

“…Yeah. Fine.” 

“Mm.” 

“Hey.” 

“Hey.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“I really am.” 

“I know.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Promise.”

“You’re not mad? We’re good?” 

“We’re good.” 

“But does that still mean you’re ma _—”_

“Goodnight, Sora.”

He waited for a breath and turned out the light, then slid back under covers where he crossed his arms and stared at the ceiling for a moment before responding loud enough so he heard.

“...‘Night.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [title](https://youtu.be/-67UX8wsKqc)


End file.
